


There is a light that never goes out,

by KittieHill



Series: Quotes and Lyrics [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drunk John, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, John had an accident, John is struggling, Kissing, M/M, Mary is a bitch, Sherlock Loves John, brief mention of vomiting, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-16
Updated: 2015-01-16
Packaged: 2018-03-07 21:01:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3183023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittieHill/pseuds/KittieHill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I normally listen to music when i write, occasionally i get stuck on certain lyrics which give me whole ideas for stories so i decided to post some of my 'Quote and Lyrics' stories. These could include whole songs or just one line from a song but it inspired me to write. Some are smutty, some are not. </p><p>Not beta'd</p><p>This one has the lyric 'I never, never want to go home, because I haven't got one anymore’ from The Smiths There is a light that never goes out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There is a light that never goes out,

Lestrade sighed as he received the call; he thanked the responding officer before walking to his own car and heading off to the crossroads where John was waiting.

He had received a few calls from officers who had previously worked with Dr Watson on cases who had become worried about his behaviour in the weeks following Mary’s deception and her subsequent _disappearance_ along with the baby which had been proven not to be Johns. The blogger had taken it hard, Sherlock had begged John to take Mary back, to love her and forgive her for almost killing him which John had done because of the child growing in Mary’s belly. His childhood trauma regarding his father had ensured that he take the responsibility of fatherhood seriously which was then cruelly taken away after a routine blood test showed that John was not the father.

Lestrade pulled up the car and walked to the kerbside where John sat hunched; the smell of alcohol permeating the air around the doctor and the kind passer-by who had helped him out of the road where he had collapsed in a drunken heap. Lestrade sighed and walked to his friend cautiously; John was a friend but he was also an ex-soldier, doctor, honorary crime fighter and now a drunken and distraught mess.

‘John?’ Greg said softly ‘You okay?’

John looked up bleary eyed and blinked ‘G-Greg?’

‘That’s it mate. It’s Greg’ Lestrade smiled ‘Shall we get you home?’

John choked back an agonised half sob, half laugh as he looked up at his friend ‘Home’

Greg took that as a positive and helped a shaky John to his feet, ignoring the small puddle and the wet trousers of his close friend.

* * *

 

Greg plugged in John’s seatbelt and sat silently composing his thoughts as his hands shook slightly at the state of his friend. The smell of cheap alcohol and urine was stronger in the small space of the car but Lestrade tried to ignore it as much as possible,

‘John mate’ He started nervously ‘You can’t keep doing this to yourself’

John blinked and nodded slowly ‘I don’t know what else to do’

Greg started the car and began towards the main road ‘Where do you want to go?’

‘Huh?’ John groaned looking up at Greg in confusion,

‘Home or Baker Street?’ Greg said slowly

‘I never, never want to go home, because I haven't got one anymore’ John whispered

‘That’s not true’ Greg soothed ‘It’s still your house’

‘How can I live in a house where I decorated a nursery for a child that isn’t mine?’ John cried ‘Where I fucked the woman I loved thinking that we were going to be a family only to be let down _again’_ John whispered, his voice becoming choked with emotion.

‘Okay so Baker Street then?’ Greg asked awkwardly

‘To Sherlock. The man I should have known was in love with me before I forced him to plan my wedding to the woman who would later shoot him’ John groaned ‘Greg pull over’

Greg pulled to the hard shoulder in time for John to unplug his seatbelt, open the door and vomit into the grass verge, tears filling his eyes as he retched painfully until he was empty. Greg rubbed John’s back softly soothing him with nonsense until John felt able to pull himself back into the car.

‘Sherlock loves you’ Greg confirmed, he had known this too ( _subconsciously, he didn’t actually want to think about Sherlock’s sexuality)_ but as John had always insisted on him being straight, Sherlock hadn’t admitted his feelings ‘but you’re still his best friend. His only real friend’

‘I failed him’ John cried again ‘I left him for her’

‘You should talk to him’ Greg insisted driving towards Baker Street and mentally apologising for the conversation he was going to force the two men into.

* * *

 

Sherlock was playing violin in the window of Baker Street as he watched Lestrade’s car pull up. He frowned and checked his phone and saw no new texts. His brain began to process why the DI would be at his home before the car stopped and Lestrade helped a very drunk John into the doorway.

Sherlock put down his violin and walked to the kitchen, clicking on the kettle and putting out two mugs for tea knowing that Lestrade wouldn’t be staying. He heard the sound of shuffling feet climbing the stairs and watched as Greg half carried John into the sitting room, lowering him onto the sofa.

‘Where did you find him this time?’ Sherlock asked without turning around.

‘Broadley Street’ Greg sighed ‘Apparently he was walking into oncoming traffic’

Sherlock ran through the map of London in his head planning the route which John had obviously taken to get there, stopping off at a number of convenience stores for more alcohol on the way.

‘Is he lucid?’ the brunette asked nervously ‘He’s not going to require medical attention?’

‘He was sick on the way here. Looks like he’s had an accident too’ Greg winced and blushed ‘He should be fine after some rest and fluids’

Sherlock nodded once and began making tea allowing Lestrade to shout his farewells as he exited Baker Street, leaving one nervous detective to deal with a very intoxicated John.

‘Drink this’ Sherlock ordered John who was slumped on the sofa, his eyes closed tightly as if to stop the world from spinning.

‘No’ John groaned

‘John. I can insert an IV and put fluid into you that way. It’s been a while since I’ve injected anything but I’m sure I could probably do it in five attempts’ Sherlock shrugged ‘Or you could just drink your tea before you have a bath’

‘Don’t want a bath’ John grumbled,

Sherlock bit his tongue painfully and wondered if this is how he sounded when he sulked.

‘You need to have a bath as you’ve had an accident and I don’t want you sitting on my sofa in wet jeans’ Sherlock said softly ‘So, you’re going to have a bath’

John blushed and lowered his head ‘I’m sorry’

Sherlock softened, old feelings of fondness and adoration flooding back as he looked at the broken man in front of him ‘I know John’

* * *

 

John bathed and changed into his old pyjamas which had been left for overnight stays during cases. His hangover had begun to kick in leaving his head pounding and his stomach lurching as Sherlock replaced his missing fluids with countless cups of tea and slices of buttered toast.

The hours passed easily, filled with tea and takeaways as the two men sat on the sofa in silence, curled up on their own sides as they watched something mindless on television. Sherlock’s mind was rushing as normal, cataloguing and evaluating all of John’s comments and gestures since he arrived whereas John desperately tried to forget that Greg ( _and members of the public)_ had witnessed him sitting like a beggar covered in his own piss. His face flushed hot again in shame as he realised he needed to sort his life out.

‘I was happy you know’ John spoke without realising,

Sherlock looked over at his friend with a soft smile ‘I know’

‘No, not then. Not with her’ John spat ‘with you. Here’

‘Oh’ Sherlock replied, looking back at the colourfully flickering box and trying to calm his heartbeat

‘Before the fall’ John swallowed audibly ‘I thought I felt something… between us’

‘John I’ Sherlock started before being cut off by John shushing him,

‘I didn’t want to admit my feelings for you. I thought it was just friendship at first’ John smiled ‘maybe some sort of complicated Stockholm Syndrome… I didn’t realise what it was’

‘And what was that?’ Sherlock asked biting him bottom lip,

‘Lust’ John admitted ‘possibly love’

Sherlock inhaled nervously and flinched when John took his hand ‘I was an idiot to believe I felt nothing for you’

Sherlock watched in stunned silence as John brought his lips closer to Sherlock’s own and pressed them together. John began chastely, their lips meeting in nothing but a press against one another before realising that Sherlock hadn’t moved or participated.

‘Oh god’ John grimaced ‘Oh god I’m so sorry Sherlock’

Sherlock’s brain clicked back online and he moved to quickly cup John’s face with his hands as he moved closer and smashed his lips against John desperately, their lips opening and tongues meeting to deepen the kiss with lustful groans being swallowed by the other as they worked to find a steady rhythm,

Sherlock whined low in his throat and positioned himself between John’s open legs until they were stomach to stomach, chest to chest as they snogged passionately. Their erections rubbing against one another perfectly and causing them to groan loudly,

‘God yes’ John whispered into Sherlock’s lips ‘Please’

Sherlock slipped his hand into John’s pyjama bottoms, wrapping his nimble fingers around the thick shaft and feeling the throbbing veins pulse against his skin. The detective stroked up and down the sensitive skin, twisting his wrist when he reached the tip and smearing the precum over the head with his thumb the way he liked. John arched his back and desperately sought Sherlock’s lips against his own. Sherlock smiled and kissed his best friend passionately as he worked his cock sloppily but eagerly

‘John’ Sherlock whispered against John’s lips, pulling away slightly ‘I love you’

‘yes’ John cried ‘I love you too Sherlock’

‘Please. You have to stop hurting yourself. Let me help you’ Sherlock whispered as his other hand stroked John’s stubble covered cheeks ‘I don’t want you to drink anymore’

‘No. No I won’t. I want to be here with you. Always’ John mumbled, his mind whirling with pleasurable sensations and promises he intended to keep.

‘Always’ Sherlock confirmed with a nod ‘Move back here, with me. To our home. Be with me John, look after me and I’ll look after you’

‘Yes’ John growled ‘Yes, Sherlock, that’s what I want’

Sherlock smiled and kissed John a final time, flicking his wrist and picking up the speed of his strokes until John was completely lost in sensations. With a deep cry John came into his pyjama bottoms, coating the fabric and Sherlock’s fist with his seed as he gasped and shuddered through the most intense orgasm he could ever remember having.

Sherlock stroked John through his climax before removing his hand and wiping the mess on his own trousers. John opened his closed eyes and looked at the kiss swollen lips of his flat mate ‘Thank you’

Sherlock grinned happily and kissed John sweetly ‘Anytime’


End file.
